


Hello Stranger

by SkieNight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, That's it, You Have Been Warned, also there's a lot of sass and swearing, semi comes in for the rescue, shirabu gets stood up, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkieNight/pseuds/SkieNight
Summary: “Sorry for being so late,” the stranger says, and his voice is clear and deep and warm, “you know how traffic is when it snows.”He leans forward and for a second Kenjirou thinks he’s going to be kissed in the middle of a restaurant by some guy he’s never seen before. But the lips come to a rest by his cheeks and the man says, in such a low whisper Kenjirou almost misses it, “Semi Eita, you looked like you could use a little bit of assistance.”That snaps Kenjirou back to the present, and he’s suddenly aware that he’s sitting in the middle of a restaurant, his boyfriend nowhere in sight, and some stranger smirking at him from across the table.





	Hello Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> This is the classic I-should-have-been-working-on-a-research-paper-but-instead-wrote-this-piece-of-trash short story. I saw a prompt somewhere and my brain spiraled. I have no excuse. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, for the sake of them drinking, they are both in university and are of legal age.

When the waitress walks over a third time, Kenjirou’s stomach drops.

“Sir,” she starts off lightly but he can already hear the pity dripping from her voice. “Are you sure you don’t want an appetizer or a drink while you wait?”

“Five more minutes,” he says; he’s not sure who he is trying to convince any more. “Just five more minutes.”

“Of course,” her response is clipped but her eyes apologize. She has a business to run, he can’t blame her for being frustrated when he’s been at the same table, waiting for the last fifteen minutes for a date that hasn’t shown up.

The door opens again, letting a gust of cold air carry in a fistful of snow. Kenjirou’s eyes snap to the door. Two figures walk in together. A third doesn’t follow. Kenjirou is so wrapped in his own disappointment he almost misses who the two figures are. When his attention snaps to the two people who just walked into the restaurant, cold fear creeps up his spine. If it was appropriate to hide under the table, he would.

He holds his breath and crosses his fingers. The two figures stand at the hostess counter, talking. Or one is talking, the other stands silently and almost aggressively behind the first, but Ushijima has never been one for people, that’s Tendou’s job.

The hostess gathers two menus and for a second it looks like she’s going to take them to the back, but Tendou turns and points to one of the window seats. He must add some witty comment or bad joke because a second later the hostess is laughing and leading them to the front of the small restaurant.

Kenjirou pulls up the menu and ducks behind it but he’s not quite fast enough.

“Shirabu?” Tendou says, his voice dripping with forced surprise. The bastard. He fucking knew. But how? “Is that you? Ushijima, look, it’s Shirabu. This must be the restaurant where he’s meeting his date.”

Ushijima looks unamused and unconvinced. “We know that Tendou, you looked at his phone when-”

“It’s so funny running into you!” Tendou laughs, hitting Ushijima’s arm as he does so. 

On top of feeling like all the air is rushing out of his lungs, Kenjirou thinks he might throw up. If he hadn’t wanted to die on the spot when the waitress walked up to him the third time, he certainly does now. Perhaps if he was to walk out of the restaurant and stand in the middle of the street a car might help him with that.

“Well!” Tendou continues, smirk growing, “We need to get to our table, but don’t be shy. Introduce us to the boy once he comes, okay?”

And with that, Tendou and Ushijima follow the hostess and sit down five tables over. From across the restaurant, Kenjirou sees the waitress sending him an apologetic look.

Great, just fucking great. As if this night couldn’t get any more humiliating. 

He checks his watch again. Twenty-two minutes. His date is twenty-two minutes late. Fine, that’s completely fine. It’s the first snow of the season, there are bound to be accidents. Still, why hasn’t he responded to Kenjirou’s texts?

Kenjirou pulls out his phone and is about to send a seventh message when the door opens again. Kenjirou glances up, doesn’t recognize anyone from the group of people who walk in, so he returns his attention to his phone. He deletes the message and hits the call button instead. It rings once then jumps to voicemail.

Kenjirou slams the red button and ends the calls before the voicemail instructions are finished. There’s a moment where he considers throwing his phone into the nearest window. Instead, he takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back. With the ever-observant Tendou five tables over, he can’t afford to look stressed. He slips his phone back into his pocket and takes a long sip of his water to try and dislodge the lump in his throat. 

The waitress is at his side a second later. “Sir. Would you like to order anything?”

Not trusting his voice, Kenjirou shakes his head.

The waitress frowns. “I’ll come back in a few,” she supplies then shuffled away.

Damn it! Kenjirou closes his eyes for a moment, willing back the tears. Fucking damn it! If Tendou finds out that he was stood-up, he will never hear the end of it.

Kenjirou is in the middle of making a plan - go to the restroom, pass the waitress, give her some cash, apologize, slip out when Tendou isn’t looking - and is so absorbed in his own mind he almost misses the screech of wood moving against wood the rustle of the tablecloth. 

Eyes snapping open, Kenjirou expects to find himself looking at warm eyes shaded by black hair. Instead, he’s looking into cold brown eyes framed by dyed gray hair.

Kenjirou is about to scream, or yell, or do something because a stranger did just sit down across from him, but then the stranger smiles and there’s a second when his eyes soften and he looks almost... beautiful. 

“Sorry for being so late,” the stranger says, and his voice is clear and deep and warm, “you know how traffic is when it snows.”

He leans forward and for a second Kenjirou thinks he’s going to be kissed in the middle of a restaurant by some guy he’s never seen before. But the lips come to rest by his cheeks and the man says, in such a low whisper Kenjirou almost misses it, “Semi Eita, you looked like you could use a little bit of assistance.”

That snaps Kenjirou back to the present, and he’s suddenly aware that he’s sitting in the middle of a restaurant, his boyfriend nowhere in sight, and some stranger smirking at him from across the table. 

“I’m fine, jackass,” Kenjirou snaps back, then looks around. He’s no longer getting looks from the people at the surrounding tables, and a glance over his shoulder reveals a very shocked Tendou.

Kenjirou turns back to the stranger who’s sitting back on his side of the table, frowning. “That’s not a very nice way to greet your boyfriend,” the strange says with ease.

Heat floods across Kenjirou’s cheeks and he opens his mouth to remind this stranger, this Semi whatever, that no, he is not Kenjirou’s boyfriend and if he could kindly fuck off that would be great. Before he can say anything, the stranger raises a single eyebrow, slowly and deliberately, as if to say:  _ Are you sure you want to go there? _

Kenjirou stops, mouth partly open, but before he’s allowed to think of another comeback or even say anything at all, the waitress appears by their table. There’s a new spring in her step and brightness in her eyes. She smiles at Kenjirou with coy confidence and the world falls still. It’s too late to kick this stranger out, not after the waitress has seen him and certainly not after Tendou has spotted him. Even if his real dick-of-a-date comes, Kenjirou would have to pretend not to know him (though after all being left to wait for twenty-five minutes, he might have considered doing that anyway). Whatever happens, they can’t know that Kenjirou was saved from certain humiliation by a cocky ass-hat. That would only lead to further embarrassment. 

“Can I get you, gentlemen, anything to start off with?” She asks, her voice light. She doesn’t even try to pretend she’s not giving Kenjirou’s “date” a good look over.

Kenjirou sits back and lets it happen. He’s not going to pretend the man across from him isn’t a little bit attractive. He’s well built, and most likely taller than Kenjirou by some number of inches. His features are sharp and framed by silver hair. He holds himself with confidence, and the way he smiles at the waitress tells Kenjirou that he’s well aware of his looks and the effects they have on other people. 

“We’ll split a bottle of the Zinfandel, please,” the stranger replies and Kenjirou blinks and pulls his eyes away from the features of the man across from him. “And we’ll have the bruschetta for our starter.”

“Of course!” The waitress says and scurries away.

When she’s gone and no longer peering back to get another look at the table, Kenjirou allows his arms to fall across his chest. He shoots a glare at the stranger. “I hope you don’t think that you can get me drunk,” he spits.

The stranger’s warm expression shifts back into a dry look. “Who says I got that for you?”

Kenjirou bristles but before he can bite back, there’s someone else beside him.

“So~” Tendou says, leaning on the back of Kenjirou’s chair. “This is your new boy? He’s quite the looker. No wonder he didn’t want to tell us about him.”

Kenjirou looks between Tendou and Ushijima, and the man sitting across from him, who no longer looks cold as an ice cube but still isn’t smiling the same way he did with the waitress. He looks almost approachable. Who does this jackass think he is? 

“Who are they?” The stranger asks, watching Kenjirou expectantly.

A lump forms in the back of Kenjirou’s throat. This isn’t happening. It can’t be. He sends a not-so-subtle glare to Tendou to try and scare him off, but the taller man just laughs.

“Now, now, don’t be shy, Shirabu,” Tendou coos, then reaches across the table, holding out a hand. “Tendou Satori, at your service. And this lug here is Ushijima. We’re good friends of Shirabu, we go to university together.”

“Wonderful,” the stranger says. “I’m Semi Eita’s, Shirabu’s apparently secret boyfriend.”

Kenjirou scowls at Semi. He’s all too aware of the blush that his traveling across his cheeks all the way to his ears. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to run out into the middle of the street. 

Tendou laughs and ruffles Kenjirou’s perfectly neat hair. “Oh, you know how Shirabu is. So easily embarrassed~”

Semi sends a knowing smirk to Kenjirou. “Oh, certainly.” And if Kenjirou wasn’t red before he is now. No, running into the street wasn’t a good idea, but pushing mister-oh-so-fucking-coy Semi into it seems like a great plan.

“You’re in my calculus class,” Ushijima says suddenly, and Kenjirou isn’t sure whether to thank him for changing the subject or punch him for continuing the conversation.

Tendou’s eyes light up. “Are you?”

There’s a pause, and Semi tilts his head before nodding. “As a matter of fact, we are. What a small world.”

Tendou laughs at that then looks between the two of them. “So, how did you meet?”

Semi sits back and smiles at Kenjirou. “Why don’t  _ you _ tell the story?”

_ Why don’t  _ you _ fucking die, _ is what Kenjirou wants to say but doesn’t. He can’t. He takes a small sip of his water, brain fumbling around. How did he meet Hayate? He’d rather not think of that fucker right now, but he needs an idea and fast.

“We were part of the same psych study group,” Kenjirou says and does his best to not picture Hayate’s round eyes or soft black hair. “ _ He _ needed more help studying and asked me to explain some of the terms to him. I agreed, we met up a few times, and things went from there.”

“How sweet~” Tendou sighs and leans against Ushijima. “Don’t you wish our meeting what that cute?”

Ushijima, seemingly unbothered by Tendou’s ridiculous swooning, asks, “what are you majoring in, Semi?”

“Neuroscience,” Semi replies, and the ease with which he says it means that it’s most likely the truth. Either that or Semi is a very good liar. 

Tendou looks to be about to say something else, and Kenjirou readies himself for any form of humiliation or embarrassment, but Tendou gives a disappointed sigh and says instead, “I’d love to continue chatting but I can see our food coming. We’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Hope to see you around Semi-Semi.”

And with that, the whirlwind that is Tendou Satori is gone.

Kenjirou sinks back into his chair and lets out a long sigh.

“So, psychology, hu?” Semi says, eyes dancing over Kenjirou’s features. “Have you been psychoanalyzing me this whole time or something?”

“Fuck off,” Kenjirou snaps.

“Sorry, just trying to keep a conversation. There’s no reason to be so cold.”

“Says the guy who mysteriously sat down with someone he didn’t know,” Kenjirou mumbles, then lowers his voice, “how would you feel if some stranger just sat down across from you and started pretending to be your boyfriend?”

“Well, if I had been stood-up I might offer the guy a thanks.”

The blush comes back, but it’s more anger than embarrassment this time. “You don’t know that!”

“Don’t I?” Semi gives him an incredulous look. “The waitresses looked like they were deciding between hugging you or strangling you, and you looked miserable.”

“So? That’s not really any of your business.”

“Can’t a guy try a be nice?” Semi asks, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest.

“Don’t you have someplace better to be?” Kenjirou answers, mimicking Semi’s posture. “I doubt you walked in here just to sit with me.”

“It was between dining with you or my nosy, gossipy coworkers, and you know what? Those old farts are looking like a whole lot more fun right now.”

“Then why don’t you go join them?”

“I have your wine, and your bruschetta.” The waitress suddenly appears at their side, setting down a steaming plate and showing the two of them the bottle of wine she brought. “Sorry for taking a little bit, are you ready to order?”

Semi meets Kenjirou’s eyes and tilts his head. Kenjirou shrugs. He spent all of his energy trying not to glower or frown at his “boyfriend,” and wasted the remainder of his time trying to keep up the façade of a date. He didn’t exactly have time to read the menu. Semi orders something for both of them, a pizza is what Kenjirou thinks he hears. He doesn’t particularly care. He’s not very hungry anyway.

“Would you like some?” Semi asks, after pouring himself a healthy amount of wine.

Kenjirou isn’t much of a fan of red wine, but right now he could probably drink the entire bottle himself. “Sure.”

Semi pours him a nice sized glass and Kenjirou downs half of it in two swings. It’s heavy and rich, and definitely not made for drinking quickly, but Kenjirou doesn’t care. He’s sitting at a table for two with a perfect stranger, while his boyfriend is gone. He lied to his friends and now has to spend the rest of dinner with this guy who is kind of a giant ass. He really doesn’t fucking care.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to get drunk?” Semi says, taking a tactful sip of his own glass.

Kenjirou glares and takes another sip. “I said  _ you _ weren’t going to get me drunk. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself drunk.”

The man across from him snorts. “You really were stood-up.”

“Do you know when to drop a subject or are you as dense as Ushijima?” Kenjirou snaps.

Semi takes one of the bruschetta off of the plate and pops the piece of bread into his mouth. “I’m just trying to put together a picture of what happened.”

“My boyfriend and I set up a date. I arrived on time, the asshole never showed, and some random stranger sat down in his place. It’s really not more complicated than that.”

Semi takes another piece and chews it slowly eyes never leaving Kenjirou. Kenjirou averts his gaze from Semi and grabs a piece of bruschetta to nibble on. It would look bad if he wasn’t eating with his date.

“So, what’s your major?”

Kenjirou looks up from him plate and sends the stranger a hard look.

“What?” Semi huffs. “I thought you would want to move away from talking about the boyfriend.”

Rolling his eyes, Kenjirou answers, “psych and literature.”

“Interesting combination,” Semi hums. “Do you do anything in your free time? Part of any clubs?”

“Why do you give a shit?”

Semi smirks. “Can’t your boyfriend ask questions without being snapped at every five seconds?”

Anger bubbles in his chest and spreads through his veins like fire. Kenjirou leans forward across the table. “You can use that term when other people are around, but let’s get one thing straight. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. And you are  _ not _ my boyfriend. Okay?”

Kenjirou slumps back in his seat, and for a second Semi watches him with an unreadable and cold expression before saying, “you’re right. I’m sorry for being so inconsiderate.”

“Good,” Kenjirou huffs, stuffing another piece of bruschetta into his mouth.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know you, though.”

“Why? You’ll never see me again after this.”

Semi shrugs. “We go to the same school, we have mutual friends. You never know.”

For a moment they just stare at one another. Kenjirou tries to glare, but it grows too tiresome. With a sigh, he takes another sip of his wine and says, “fine. I’m not really in any clubs. I spend most of my time in the psych lab.”

“Do anything else?”

“A little volleyball on the side. Club, though, nothing official.”

“So that’s where I’ve seen you,” Semi says suddenly, “you’re the setter, right?”

“Yeah….?” Kenjirou wonders if he should be a little freaked out, but their college isn’t that big so it’s probably not that surprising that Semi would recognize him. “You’ve seen some of our games?”

Semi nods. “I used to play in high school. Don’t have time now between double-majoring and my job, but I enjoy watching it.”

“What position were you?” Kenjirou lets his eyes travel back over Semi’s body, purely for scientific reasons of course. He’s well built in the arms, and while Kenjirou hasn’t seen much of his lower half he assumes that Semi is fit there too. A wing-spiker most likely, if Kenjirou has to guess.

“Setter,” Semi says with a smile. This one is small, barely lifting the corners of his mouth but it makes his whole face relax. He looks beautiful like that. Almost.

Kenjirou clicks his tongue just as he waitress reappears with a large tray of pizza. She sets it down, shares a giggle with Semi, then flutters away.  They eat in silence, for the most part, exchanging words every now and again.

Kenjirou learns that Semi is actually a neuroscience major with education being his second degree. He also works part-time at a bar and then also has a paid intern at a lab. He has to work a certain number of hours for his scholarship, which is why he has no time for volleyball anymore.

They talk more, but Kenjirou has a harder and harder time concentrating on the conversation at hand. His eyes continue to return to his lap, more specifically to his phone, which he took out of his pocket. It’s been over an hour now, their food has been eaten, and no new text or call has come in. Kenjirou has a new sinking feeling in his gut.

“Everything alright?” Semis voice is quiet and soft around the edges, so unlike what it was for most of dinner.

“Yes,” Kenjirou answers on a whim. Semi gives him a hard look and Kenjirou sighs. “I... no. No, it’s not. He still hasn’t texted me back.”

“The asshole, I assume?” Semi asks

Kenjirou frowns but ignores the comment, as much as he’s inclined to agree. “What if he’s hurt or... or I don’t know, dead and I’ve just been sitting here throughout dinner and-“

“Shirabu, breathe.”

Kenjirou does. It doesn’t help to clear his mind if any of the thoughts, but it does bring him back into the moment.

“Why would he just... not show up?”

Semi shrugs. “You’ll have to ask him that.”

“Oh, believe me, I will and when I do-” Kenjirou stops talking when Semi’s eyes snap from him to something over his shoulder.

“Tendou, Ushijima, are the two of you heading out?” Semi asks.

Tendou smiles. “We are. Unlike you lovebirds, I have work to do.” He gives Ushijima a heavy look that says more than it needs to. If there weren’t in public, Kenjirou would have gagged. “It was nice meeting you, Semi-Semi.”

“Yes, it was,” Ushijima agreed. “Perhaps next time we can communicate to get tables together.”

“A double date! What a wonderful idea~” Tendou smiles and looks to Kenjirou. “Try and keep this one,” he says with a smirk, “he really is a looker.”

Kenjirou glares. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

Tendou laughs and is gone after one last wave.

Kenjirou slumps back in chair and keys out a sign. “Why is he so exhausting to be around?”

But his question is never answered. The waitress comes back and takes away their plates, leaving the check. Neither of them reaches for it but Kenjirou still pulls out his wallet. “We’re splitting it,” he says, indicating to the check on the table.

Semi nods, and ten minutes later they are standing up and waving goodbye to the waitstaff. Their waitress catches Kenjirou’s eye one last time and gives him a large and terribly awkward wink. And then they are outside in the cold. It’s stopped snowing, but the air is still crisp, and a sharp wind blows between the buildings.

For a moment they hover outside of the restaurant. “Are you going to the train station?” Kenjirou asks.

Something loosens in his chest when Semi says yes. The walk is quiet, filled only with the whistles of the wind and the crunch of snow beneath their boots. They reach the station in no time and locate their respective trains.

Kenjirou’s is coming first, so Semi talks him to the platform.

“Uhhh thanks for sitting with me at dinner. You really helped me back there,” Kenjirou mumbles into his scarf.

Semi must hear him because his lips pull into a warm smirk. “Thanks for being okay company. You know, when you weren’t swearing at me.”

“Fuck off,” Kenjirou mumbles.

Semi laughs, actually laughs. It’s not long or loud but it warms Kenjirou’s chest. For a second they are just standing, staring at one another, and then there’s a whistle and the speaker overhead announces the approaching train.

“Well, that’s me. Thank you again.”

“It was nothing. You saved me from dinner with my coworkers. I should be thanking you.”

The train slows at the station and Kenjirou turns with a quiet goodbye.

“Wait,” Kenjirou stops and semi holds out a price and paper, numbers and a name scribbled across it. Kenjirou has no idea when he could have written this but is mildly impressed nonetheless, not that he’d let Semi know that. “If you need another fake date anytime soon.”

Kenjirou looks at the paper and then at Semi. Slowly, a small smile slips across his lips. “Oh?”

“I also never got your full name.”

Kenjirou’s eyes jump from the note to Semi. “Then how-”

“Your friend said it.”

There’s a moment of silence where they look to the other for what to say. Behind them, the train doors part and another announcement is made about boarding.

“I should go,” Kenjirou says and turns.

“What about your name?” Semi asks, one step behind him.

Kenjirou stops at the doors of the train and looks over his shoulder. He meets Semi’s eyes and this time, he’s the one to smirk. “You’ll just have to ask me on the second date,” he says and steps onto the train. Semi remains on the platform, glaring all the while, but there’s an excitement in his eyes.

As Kenjirou sinks into his seat, he looks back down at the note and smiles.


End file.
